She walked to the door, opened it,
greeted the salesman with bible in hand,
invited him in, offered coffee or hot cocoa.
He did not need evidence to believe;
she did not need to believe to have evidence
because it was there hidden in the books of man;
the ones the preachers refuted and called blasphemy.
”Do not believe in the works of man,” he’d been told,
“for their works are nothing compared to the Lord’s.”
What’s there is there before your eyes, even if you don’t
understand, she’d thought.
The mysteries of origin were becoming undone,
science was opening the doors of spirituality,
unmasking the face of god, showing man He
and at the same time Himself.
But the preachers could not have that, could not
turn over those stones, could not find God in the forest
or God in the trees, could not find God inside him or
“We are energy,“ she said and meekly bowed her head
and slightly smiled
because she knew that when we were at an end, no matter what
faith we labeled this existential dream, we would be the same,
free from all this constructed dust animated and given names.
The only question was what experience we chose as we walked
our circles down the path and off the trail.
“Insufferably Didactic” is written by Michael Aaron Casares, and was originally published in his book This Reality of Man. All rights reserved.